Omen Eclispe- a world of fantasy, horror, and intrigue. A place set in the Dark Ages a time of death, struggle and riches. A place where not everything is what it seems and the night takes on a life of its own.

A body made of scars, each a different shape and size, his skin a patchwork of past wounds. This is why the commoners call him 'Scarss', tho the snakelike pronounciation remains a mystery.

"Beautiful and carefree, that's how we use to be..."

This young male, barely under six feet tall, is in his prime. No older than twenty, he is well built with a weight just shy of a hundred and ninety pounds. A slight tint of blue shadows the curves and creases of his pale white skin, his silver hair shadowed with blue at the tips and roots. With the exception of his head, his skin is naturally hairless; his arms, legs, torso, and face bare - a gift from his parents incestrial conception. With reasonable health, agility, a strong body, above average intelligence, and an aggreeable if not attractive facial structure, he is a proud example of a Nebari Pureblood.

"Ressurection is for those who didnt get it right the first time."

His movements seem alien, even the simplest are hindered by the mishealed flesh, causing him a dull accustomed ache. The scars stand out, their misted blue and grey outlines clear against the pale skin.

"Come see my cage, built in my grave."

Most disturbing of all, he hails from the D'Latu family. The D'Latu family is one of Nebari's oldest and most feared names. They have produced the most Nebarian "Purebloods", branding themselves as a royal family. Sadly, insanity runs rampant among the D'Latu bloodline, leaving them deathly unpredictable. For instance.. during the latest of many civil uprisings within Nebari, the D'Latu family was enlisted as allies to destroy the house D'Rath. When the time came to deliver the final blow, the D'Latu simply stepped aside and watched with vast amusement, cheering and laughing as their former allies were torn apart and demolished by the D'Rath spellcasters. They found great sport in this.. D'Latu are not to be trusted, and are best left to themselves.

"I cant see from here.. but I can smell your fear!"

Equally disturbing are the tatoo's he bares, the most visable being a vertical black slash across his left eye. It runs from mid-forehead to the corner of his lip, ending in sharp points. Other tatoo's stand out on his arms and legs, bearing favorite quotes and tribal designs in black ink, but only the slash remains unbroken by previous wounds. Surprisingly, only three scars mark his face and neck. A half crecent along the outer edge of his left eye, a large jagged gash across his throat, and a small branded cross on his right temple. Because of these markings, bizzare coloring, and his declining mental stability he is rightly percieved as a dangerous man.

"I'm all alone on my own in this universe of fear. Beyond the reach of the damned, in this role I'm revered."

_________________"The world is full of broken people... Splints, casts, miracle drugs, and time cannot mend fractured hearts, wounded minds, or torn spirits."

"People cared more in those days.. Something happened, everything changed. The whole world feels.. broken. More and more, we're on our own."